Life, 1890-11-20 · page 7 of 24
Life — November 20, 1890 — page 7: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Analysis of Life Magazine Page 285 This page contains Thanksgiving-themed satirical content circa early 20th century. **"An Uneven Thanksgiving"** (left): Four sequential cartoons show a Thanksgiving dinner progressively deteriorating—the turkey shrinks from a substantial bird to nearly nothing, while the diners remain seated. The joke satirizes economic hardship or scarcity, suggesting poor families received inadequate holiday meals. **"The Turkey's Farewell"** (right): A poignant poem from a turkey's perspective, addressing its mother before slaughter. It's darkly humorous, personifying the bird while commenting on the casual violence of holiday traditions. **"No Celebration," "A Happy Thought"** (bottom): Brief comic dialogues about Thanksgiving affordability and poverty, with poor boys envying wealthy families' dining rooms. The page collectively satirizes class inequality and economic struggle during the holiday season.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
- LIFE: AN UNEVEN THANKSGIVING. THE TURKEY'S FAREWELL. HEN I was hatched, dear mother, The bud was on the bough ; I wish to gracious, mother, The bough was budding now. But oh, ‘tis drear November, The month in which, you say, We're slaughtered by the million To make a holiday. Oh, ruc the hour that saw me Come chipping from my shell! The summer days that knew me An innocent young swell! Oh, blithely did 1 gobble All through the month of June ; But now, ‘Thanksgiving coming, How altered is my tune. T know you told me, mother, I must not cat so much ; I know you warned me, mother, To flee the fatal hutch But youth is gay and thoughtless, My appetite was strong, And consequently, dearest, Your darling son went wrong. You sce me here in prison Reflecting on my fate, While every precious moment I grow in size and weight. But hark ! what horrid clamor Is that? that awful thud ! Oh, woe, the farmer's spilling My youthful comrades’ blood. And now he's coming hither ! I sce the gleaming axe! Farewell, farewell, dear mother, You'd best be making tracks! Soon, soon, my fondest mother, I'll tie among the slain, And budding boughs next spring, dear, Will bud for me in vain, —K. NO CELEBRATION. NCLE RASTL Use afear’d I ain't goin’ ter hab no turkey fer mah Thanksgivin’ dis year. Hooks: Why not, Uncle Rastus? Are the prices too high for you ? UNCLE Rastus: No, sah; but de fences is. A HAPPY THOUGHT. IRST POOR BOY: Let's go round to the Astorbilts for Thanksgiving. SECOND Poor Boy: What for? First Poor Boy: Their dining room's fixed so’s we can see ‘em eat. comicbooks.com